


Curse

by charivari



Category: Original Work
Genre: Curses, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, F/M, Family Secrets, Implied Beastiality, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Instability, Murder, Pregnancy, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 07:33:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5657896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charivari/pseuds/charivari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Augie Travers thought he had found his dream girl in Holly Hale. Until she tells him of the curse inflicted on her family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curse

**Author's Note:**

> Thought I would post some original stuff on A03. Hopefully people like it. Warning read tags, some dark themes in this.

It was opening night for the Rose Theatre's production of _Antigone_. Set builder Augie Travers should have been sharing a beer with his fellows for a job well done. Instead he was hovering near Holly Hale's dressing room. He only wanted to wish her good luck before she took to the stage, that's what he told himself. In reality he had been in love with her a long time. Not that she even knew his existence. She was constantly surrounded by admirers. Why should she notice a lowly set builder in paint-splattered overalls gazing at her beyond the thong? But tonight he was determined to at least speak to her.

He consulted his watch. It was half hour before opening curtains. Surely she would emerge from her dressing room soon, her trademark red hair in curls and her body wrapped in Grecian dress. He bounced on his feet in nervousness. He was so focused on the actress' door that he almost missed the arrival of Leopold Greene. The lead man staggered in the view, already in costume, a red rash of intoxication on his face.

"You're not supposed to be here," he snarled at Travers.

He was an arrogant shit. His success on stage had given him an inflated head and a sense he could treat anyone else like dirt. Travers disliked him immensely. He opened his mouth to retort but Greene had turned his back. He stumbled to Hale's door and began pounding on it.

"It's Leo darling, let me in," he called.

Travers’ blood boiled. Were the two an item? Had Hale succeeded to that greasy charm that had landed many young ingénues in Greene's bed? Travers’ hands clenched as he listened for Hale's response. It came momentarily, muffled behind the door that did not open.

"Go away Leo," was her reply, a sighing command that held a hint of tenseness.

Greene growled as he thrust himself on the door,

"Oh don't be like that, Hol," he slurred sharply through the keyhole, "I want to see you."

"I said go away!" Hale's voice rose in what Travers felt was distress.

"The lady wants you to leave," the words travelled firmly from his mouth.

Greene's head snapped in his direction,

"What are you, her bodyguard," he drawled scathingly, "Stay out of this you piece of shit. I could get you fired."

He resumed banging on Hale's door. Travers moved towards him in anger. Greene was a tall man but slender. Travers was shorter but with a lot more muscle. He sent him crashing to the floor quite easily. Greene flailed on the floor like an upturned tortoise before he managed to pull himself upright. His face was a comical look of outrage.

"How dare you?" he said, spittle flying from his mouth, "I'm getting Adrian. You're fired pal. Nobody pushes me. I'm the lead you fucking ANT!"

"Go get Adrian then," Travers replied coolly, "I don't care."

In reality he did. Adrian Mellenkamp was the director and could fire him. But he didn't stop Greene was stumbling away. He would attempt to defend himself later. He knocked gently on Hale's door.

"It's okay," he said, "He's gone."

A pause and the door opened an inch. One of Hale's green eyes, highlighted in smoky grey eye shadow stared out tentatively. Seeing Greene gone, wariness turned to relief and she opened the door wide, revealing herself in all her loveliness before she unexpectedly grasped him.

"Thank you," she breathed against his chest as he stood in her embrace dumbstruck, "He's been harassing me all week."

She released him, stepping back and surveying in with a merry smile.

"No problem," Travers stuttered out a reply.

"You're the set builder aren't you," Hale said to his surprise, "Aaron..."

"Augie," Travers corrected her nervously, "Augie Travers."

"Augie Travers," she spoke his name with her lovely lilting voice, "You're a very good painter."

Augie starred at her with uncertainty. Was the compliment sincere, could she tell which parts of the set were his, or was she just being polite? He prayed it wasn't the latter.

"Thank you ma'am," he founded himself bowing as if she were a princess.

Hale rolled her eyes. Travers tensed, thinking he had offended.

"Don't call me ma'am. It makes me sound old," she pulled a face before smiling, "Call me Holly."

Travers’ heart thundered at the invitation.

"Holly, yes, alright," he stuttered.

Hale giggled, out of amusement, not malice. Her mouth fell back into a smile. It was infectious and Travers tentatively ventured one of his one. 

"Holly!" Adrian announced his presence as he came printing towards them in his crisply pressed tuxedo, "Are you okay. Leo..."

"Leo was banging on my door in a drunken stupor," Hale interrupted, "Augie here came to my aid."

She tilted her immaculately curled head in his direction. Her explanation brought Adrian to a halt.

"Oh I..." his hand came to stroke his small triangular beard, "Yes Leo did seem..." he trailed off with a sigh, "I think we'll have to call him a cab and let Justin step in."

Justin Makepeace was Greene's understudy. He was more inexperienced but by no means a less talented actor. He was almost a more decent person in Travers' mind. He would join Travers and the other crew on cigarette breaks and have a chat. Travers was pleased his friend would now get the spotlight over Greene.

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Hale voiced her agreement to Adrian, "Justin's less likely to fall off the stage or puke on the audience."

Adrian pulled a face as he rummaged for his cell phone.

"I'll organize the cab," he said, "You need to get on stage Antigone. It's almost show time."

Hale took in a shivering breath and patted her curls somewhat nervously. Travers was surprised. On stage she imbued nothing but confidence. To see her now, in such an intimate state of nerves, Travers felt more enamored of her than ever before, felt pride as she steeled herself before his eyes.

"Wish me luck," she turned him with a calm smile.

"Break a leg," he answered. Immediately he grimaced at the statement. Why was he telling her to injure herself?

Hale laughed, unoffended.

"Let's hope not," she said, a twinkle in her eyes.

She lifted up the front of her dress to ease her movement as she dashed towards the stage.

There was no place for Travers to watch the performance. He could only find a spot out of the way backstage to listen. Her voice carried marvelously and he had watched her rehearse enough times to imagine her movements.

Overall the play went off without a hitch. Justin forgot one of his lines but managed to recover. There was no doubt Hale was the real star of the show. Her Antigone was the perfect blend of bravery and tragedy. Travers' applause was silenced by that of the theatre-goers as she took her bow.

She returned backstage face flushed with happiness. Travers had no time to approach before she was surrounded by others wishing to congratulate her. Travers watched with disappointment before walking away.

What chance did he have with Holly Hale anyway?

The last thing he expected was for her to follow him.

"Wait!" her voice carried down the hall and he halted in surprise.

Hale floated towards him in her dress, mouth a solemn line.

"Why are you leaving Augie?" she asked.

Travers slipped his hands in his pockets, looked down and shrugged. A hand came to rest on his arm.

"I don't want you to leave."

Travers looked up at Hale in disbelief.

"Why?"

Hale's mouth lifted slightly,

"Because I like you Augie," she said, "You're not like the rest of them."

She waved her hand in the direction her admirers surely stood waiting for her.

"They're always giving me compliments. But you're the only one who helped when I was in trouble." 

She pressed a kiss to his cheek. Her lips were as soft as rose petals.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome," Travers whispered back in amazement.

Hale giggled.

"I have champagne in my dressing room," she said, "Would you like to join me?"

Of course the answer was yes. The champagne loosened his nerves. He could talk without stuttering. He even managed a joke. She laughed uproariously. He joined her.

A knock on the door silenced them. Her admirers no doubt wanting to pull her back into their clutches. She clamped her hand over his mouth. His heart soared. She wanted to stay here with him. She wanted the others to think the room empty and go away.

For all her effort in keeping him silent, she failed to stop herself dissolving into a fit of giggles. Travers raised his own hand to her mouth but her laughter was infectious. They both ended up sniggering into each other's hand. Though muffled, Travers suspected they could be heard out in the hall.

Still Hale didn't answer the door. The knocking eventually ceased and her visitors left in what sounded like a huff. The pair continued to laugh until they were out of air.

"I'm glad they're gone," Hale said once she had caught her breath, "This is the second you've saved me tonight. My hero."

She fell forward and kissed him before he had time respond. If Travers had been more sober he may have questioned Hale's judgment. But with the champagne in his system he threw caution to wind and returned her kiss. 

They made love that night. They fell asleep in each other's arms. Travers woke first the next morning. He stared at Hale's sleeping face, fearing this had only been a one night stand, that she would dismiss him as soon as she awoke. But when her eyes finally fluttering open, there was no look of regret or distaste. She gave him a warm relaxed smile.

"Morning," she moved to kiss him.

There was no real discussion on becoming a couple. They simply _were_. They became inseparable, only apart when Hale took to the stage. Travers grew used to the jealous looks of other men. He didn't care what they thought of him. He wasn't well-known or rich or titled. But Hale didn't want an actor or merchant or noble. She wanted Travers.

"I bought a cottage in Seaworth," she told him one day while they were lunching, "It's lovely but it needs a new coat of paint. I was thinking you and I could..."

"I'd like that," Travers said immediately,

It combined two things he loved. Painting and Hale. She wasn't one for standard cream walls either. She wanted an African savanna for the living room. A woodland forest for the bedroom. A sea-blue bathroom with fish and mermaids. Travers was both excited and cautious about her artistic vision. He warned her such uniqueness might depreciate the value. Hale just rolled her eyes. She couldn't imagine ever selling her dream home. She didn't care if her idea of paradise wasn't to popular taste.

Travers didn't press the issue. He was happy to create her vision. Hale helped with the base coats. She couldn't paint giraffes or nymphs as skillfully as Travers so she left him to finer detail. It was an intensive project and Travers worked into the evenings. Hale always invited him to stay the night. It became the norm for Travers not to see his apartment for days on end.

"You should just move in," Hale said to him one day.

Travers didn't hesitate. He preferred Hale and her house of creativity to his dull lifeless apartment. So he moved in.

By that time he had started on the woodland scene. As was her norm Hale came and took a peek every so often. She smiled at the badgers and foxes, her gaze turning to the largest feature Travers was completing. A grey wolf. Her smile slipped.

"What's wrong?" Travers asked immediately.

Hale didn't appear to have heard him. She kept staring at the wolf, frowning.

"Hol?" Travers reached out to her again.

Hale turned him, eyes almost fearful. Then she smiled, expression turning confusingly bright.

"I better go put dinner on."

She exited the room too quickly for him to respond.

After that she was oddly withdrawn. She barely made any attempt at conversation or affection. For the first night of their relationship she slept outside his embrace.

"Is there something wrong?" he began asking her.

"I'm fine," she would reply.

But she would remain distant all the same. Travers continued painting. Perhaps she was depressed the house was not yet finished.

Then one morning he woke to the sound of her retching. He rushed into the bathroom just as she was flushing the toilet. Wordlessly she crossed to the sink to rinse her mouth.

"I can drive you to the doctor," he said.

"No," Hale said sharply as she turned off the tap. Then she softened, "Augie, I'm fine really. We do need milk though. Can you run to the store?"

Travers suspected this was a means to be rid of him. The closest supermarket was a twenty minute drive. But he obliged nonetheless. He returned with milk and the peppermint chocolate Hale loved. He was determined to win back her favor. But she was nowhere to be seen when he walked through the door. He called her name and received no answer.

He made his way upstairs to the bedroom. He opened the door and exhaled sharply. Blood red painted had been smeared over the wolf portrait, covering it from view. Travers could hear the shower running in ensuite bathroom. He pushed open the door, anger fading at the sight of Hale in ball on the shower floor, face in red-streaked hands. He could hear her sobbing. He rushed over.

"Hol, what's wrong?"

There was no reply. She remained buried in her hands. Travers turned the shower off and bent down to her level. He grabbed her arms, forcing her to look at him.

"What's wrong?" he more or less ordered.

Hale starred at him in what looked like agony.

"I'm pregnant."

Travers reeled slightly in shock. A baby? He was going to be a father. It was shock but not quite the tragedy Hale was making it out as.

"Baby, that's not, not a bad thing is it?" he said, rubbing her arm.

It wasn't something they had planned but there was no reason they weren't ready to raise a child. 

"The baby - they'll be something wrong with it," Hale cried.

"I'm sure there won't be," Travers tried to reassure her.

"My family has a history of, of deformity," Hale stared fearfully down at her stomach, "If it's a boy, he'll be a monster."

“All boys are monsters," Travers chuckled.

"No Augie," Hale shivered, "A _real_ monster."

The smile fell from Travers’ face.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

Hale clutched her knees. She let out a deep sigh.

"There was a rich man," she said, "One with a big property. So big he didn't need all of it but felt he did. One day he discovered a gypsy woman and her child living on the edge of the property. He didn't feel pity for the mother and child. He ordered them on their way. But the boy came back during the night. His mother had no money and stealing fruit from the trees was the only way they could eat. The rich man had suspected something like this to happen so he had laid in wait in case the gypsies came back. He had his dogs with him. The moment he saw the child, he let the dogs loose. He thought the boy would be quick enough to run away and never return. But the boy was weak and couldn't outrun the dogs. They caught him in their jaws and killed him.

The rich man called the police. He didn't get in trouble because the boy had been trespassing. He handed the boy's body over to the authorities and thought that was the end of it. But then there was a knock on his door. It was the gypsy woman. She cursed him for the death of her son. Forever more, she said, any boy born to you and your family will be born as wolves.

The rich man had laughed in her face. He didn't believe in curses. Sometime later his wife fell pregnant with their first child. She gave birth to a thing all covered in fur and when the man saw him he knew the curse was real. His wife didn't live to see her beast son. She died shortly after the birth. The midwife had fainted at the sight of the baby. The man paid her a considerable sum to never speak a word to anyone about what she had seen.

He chained up his beast of a son in the basement. No one could ever know of his existence. He told everyone the child had died with its mother. After a while he married his second wife. She gave birth to three girls, all human. The man began to think that perhaps the curse had worn off. But then his second wife fell pregnant again. This time it was a boy, born with fur the same as the first.

He locked the second boy in the basement. His second wife had survived the birth unlike the first. But having a beast for a son, she began to lose her mind. She threw herself out of the top window to her death..."

Hale paused. Tears were running down her cheeks.

"Hol..." Travers said tentatively.

Hale shook her head. She wiped her eyes and continued,

"You would have thought after this the man would not remarry. But he did. He took a Japanese bride. He forced her to have a hysterectomy so she could never give birth to wolf sons. He adopted a boy too. So he could have a human son as well. But he could not beat the curse entirely. His daughters were of his own blood and thus affected too by the gypsy's curse. Any son born to them would also be wolf."

Hale trailed off into silence.

"Baby that's just some fairy story," Travers said gently, "It's not real."

"Yes it is," Hale cried, "That man in the story is my father."

Travers stared at her. She had always appeared so sane. How could she suddenly be completely the reverse?

"Humans can't give birth to wolves," he told her, "It's scientifically impossible."

"I'm telling the truth Augie," Hale snarled, "I'm not crazy."

"Okay," Travers raised his hands disarmingly. He had to keep her calm. It couldn't be good for the baby, which he was sure was human, "Let's go to the doctor's. We can find out for sure."

"No doctors! I can't risk them going to the press."

"Then what do you want to do?" Travers asked, frustration slipping into his voice.

Hale was silent for a moment.

"Go home," she answered.

She meant her birth-home. The one mentioned in the story. Travers decided to indulge her. If only to prove her story was only fantasy. He was also curious to meet her family. She had never talked about them before. He suspected her father had fed her this rubbish about the curse. To keep her away from boys perhaps. Not that it had worked.

"I ran away when I was fifteen," Hale told him, "I just couldn't take it anymore living in that place."

"Are you sure you want to go back?" Travers asked before they left in his car.

Hale looked down at her stomach and nodded.

"It's time."

Her father's estate, Fairweather, was in the next county. It would take them several hours to reach it. Hale revealed her family's names as they drove.

"My father's name is Septimus. His wife is Fumiko. My sister are Drusilla and Tansy. My adopted brother is Jobey. My other brothers are Darius and Callum."

"You mean the wolves," Travers did his best not to sound skeptical.

They were probably family pets. Parents often told their children a dog or a cat was their brother or sister.

Hale grew more solemn as they neared her family's home.

"Be prepared they may not want to see me. I haven't been in contact since I left."

Travers felt a twinge of sympathy despite the overall absurdity of it all. He reached over to squeeze Hale's hand.

Fairweather might have looked grand if not for the state of disrepair. The iron gates were covered in ivy. The garden resembled a jungle. The house, though goliath in size, was just as derelict. White paint was peeling from the walls like flakes of skin. The roof was littered with broken tiles. The windows were gloomy with dust. Hale didn’t seem shocked by its current state. Only nervous. She clung to Travers’ arm as they walked to the front door. Hale paused, took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

They waited. Hale’s shoulders began to sag in disappointment. Then they heard foot-steps. Hale perked up with a sharp intake of breath.

The door opened. A young woman peered out at them. She bore a passing resemblance to Hale. Instead of Hale’s bouncy locks, her hair hung limp and greasy around her face. She was barefoot, wrapped in a threadbare dressing gown. Her fingers and toenails were overgrow and dirt-encrusted. A wariness overtook Travers as he looked at her. Her eyes had a slightly mad glint as they rolled about in their sockets. She reminded Travers of an unpredictable wild dog.

“Tansy,” Hale said.

“Hebe,” the woman replied.

“Hebe?” Travers turned to Hale.

She gave him a look of apology for the confusion.

“It’s my birth name,” she explained.

Travers accepted this with a nod. He supposed Holly was more modern name than Hebe.

Hale turned back to Tansy.

“Are you going to let us in Tansy?” there was an air of command in her voice.

Tansy let loose a giggle. A witch-like cackle.

“Come in. Come in.”

She beckoned with a dirty claw-like finger.

Travers felt Hale relax. Her fear of being turned away diminished. He followed her through the threshold. Immediately he gagged. The place reeked of dust and urine. He looked to Hale. He could tell by her stiff expression she was holding back her disgust. She folded her arms as if that would shield her that smell.

“I need to see father,” she told Tansy.

Her sister let out another horrible giggle and did a twirl.

“Too late,” she sang.

Hale’s expression hardened,

“What do you mean?” she demanded.

Tansy threw up her hands,

“Daddy’s dead,” she informed her with a grin.

Hale’s face went slack with shock.

“What?”

The lack of grief on Tansy’s face was chilling. She started humming to herself.

“Drusie killed him,” she said mid-hum, “Poisoned his nightcap.”

She suddenly rocked about shrieking with laughter.

“Nightcap with nightshade!”

“Jesus Christ,” Travers murmured.

A sister who was a murderer. Another, a nut job. A dead father. He turned to comfort Hale but her eyes were decidedly dry. The only emotion on her face was anger. She stalked over to Tansy and shook her.

“Why Tansy?”

Humor fled from Tansy’s face and she whimpered. Hale’s face softened and she let her sister go.

“Tell me Tansy,” she said more gently.

Tansy looked down, hair spilling over her face.

“Jobey left. With Fumiko.”

Travers blinked in surprise. Hale’s adopted brother had run off with their mother-in-law. Hale’s face was solemn.

“Go on,” she told Tansy.

Tansy wriggled her hideous toes.

“Before he left, told Drusie he didn’t want her. Too much trouble. Because of…”

Her head jerked up in Travers’ direction.

“It’s okay,” Hale said, “I’ve told him.”

Tansy nodded then clawed the hair away from her face.

“Didn’t want wolf babies,” she continued, “Fumi better for him, he said. Told Drusie he loved Fumi. Drusie mad. She tried to attack Jobey but he hit her. Then he and Fumi left.”

Questions burned on Travers’ tongue. Hale’s sister had been in love with her brother. Granted he wasn’t their biological sibling but it was still unsettling. As was the fact she had been spurned due to the brother’s belief in the so-called curse.

“Did father do anything?” Hale asked Tansy.

“Daddy said he didn’t care. Could get a new wife and son. But Drusie cared. She blamed Daddy for the curse,” Tansy’s visibly shivered at the word, “Thought if she killed Daddy that would end it. Then Jobey would want her.”

“Did it work?” Hale asked, desperate, hopeful.

Tansy shrugged her shoulders.

“Don’t know. Maybe. Dari and Cal still wolves.”

Travers fought the urge to scoff.

“Where are they?” Hale asked Tansy.

“Out hunting,” Tansy smiled.

“You let them free?” Hale said with alarm.

“Always come back. Couldn’t keep them shut in basement,” Tansy’s voice rose in distress as she seized fistfuls of her hair, “Not right! Never right!”

Hale quickly cupped her hands over Tansy’s,

“I know,” she said to her softly, “I know.”

Tansy relaxed, allowing Hale to detach her fingers from her hair.

“Do you think you could make us a cup of tea?” she asked Tansy gently, “I’m parched.”

Tansy nodded. She continued nodding as she waddled away. Hale let out a small sigh of relief. She looked down at her stomach, placed her hand over it and smiled.

“Everything might be okay,” she murmured.

Travers shook his head. He couldn’t let her slide more into this fantasy. There was too much in reality to address. Her father had been murdered. Where was the body? Should they call the police? Where was her other sister?

“Hol…” he began.

Hale cut him off,

“You heard Tansy,” she said, “Father’s death may have broken the curse.”

“I’m honestly more worried about the fact your sister poisoned your father,” Travers hissed, “Doesn’t that upset you in the slightest?”

Hale grimaced at the accusation,

“My father wasn’t a nice man Augie,” she replied, “I know it sounds awful but I’m relieved he’s dead.”

Travers sighed,

“I guess I can’t pass judgment. I never met the guy. But still, murder is murder and we should probably call the police…”

“No police,” Hale hissed, “Augie I mean it. What’s done is done. I won’t be responsible for putting Dru in prison.”

She moved closer and looked at him pleadingly,

“Promise. Promise me you won’t call the police.”

Against his better judgment, Travers relented with a heavy sigh.

“Alright.”

Hale probably hadn’t fully processed her father’s death. Once she realized the magnitude of the situation surely she would agree to contact the authorities.

In the meantime she was grateful. She looped her arms around his middle,

“Thank you.”

She led into the parlor to wait for Tansy. Like the rest of the house it was in a state of neglect. Cobwebs hung in the edges of old-fashioned portraits, dead-eyed ancestors in their finery. Antiques sat in the layer of dust. Travers reluctantly joined on Hale on the faded lounge.

A fair amount of clattering could be heard before Tansy appeared with their tea in little porcelain cups. Travers stared down at the brown contents. It had more an odor of dirty water than tea. He hesitantly sipped, cringed and set the cup down. Hale did the same. Only Tansy sipped hers without any sign of distaste.

“So where is Dru, Tansy?” Hale asked.

“Went after Jobey,” Tansy answered.

Hale didn’t enquire whereabouts that was.

“What did you do with father’s body?” she asked instead.

Tansy sipped her tea, kicking her legs restlessly.

“Buried it in the garden. Dari and Cal dug deep grave.”

Hale gave a somewhat approving nod. Before she could say anything else, Tansy voiced her own question.

“Has Hebe come home for good?”

“Maybe for a little while,” Hale answered.

Travers looked at her anxiously. How long did she mean? He had only considered them staying at most overnight. This being before he had learned her father had been murdered and the only remaining occupant was a crazy woman. Now he could even think about staying another hour.

“Can I talk you,” he murmured urgently to Hale, “In private.”

She acquiesced. They left Tansy in the parlor and made their way outside. Travers was glad, the air was fresher outside. How could Hale think it was a good idea to sleep in a house suffocated in dust and mold? That couldn’t be good for the baby.

“You’re not serious about staying here?” he asked her.

To his dismay she nodded.

“Tansy’s a mess Augie,” she said, “I mean, she always been a little… simple but not like this,” she paused, hand falling on her stomach, “There’s also a possibility that the curse is still around. Until I find out for sure, I don’t want to leave.”

“You want to stay in this hellhole until the baby is born?” Travers cried, “Hol, it’s disgusting.”

“It just needs a good clean,” Hale argued, “Please Augie, do this for me.”

She looked at him pleadingly. Travers glared back. He didn’t want to be pushed around on this point. If he had to carry her back to the car by force he would do it.

‘No’ was on his lips when a sound caught his attention.

A rustling, snuffling noise. He turned to look out into the garden and his heart caught in his throat. Two wolves – there was no mistaking them for dogs – had just appeared, moving in their direction. Their jaws were parted and Travers could see their wicked teeth. Suddenly they broke into a run and Travers moved to shield Hale.

“Get inside!”

“No Augie,” she pushed around him, “Its Dari and Callum.”

To his horror she knelt down and opened her arms. The creatures didn’t slow their approach. They continued racing towards them, mouths open, tongues rolling. Travers saw nothing in their movement to suggest friendliness. Knowing he couldn’t get Hale out of the way in time, he threw himself over her, ready to shield her from attacking jaws. But the attack didn’t come, the wolves skidded to a halt before them. They started growling.

“Augie get off me,” Hale grumbled from underneath him.

He eased off her slowly, eyes never leaving the beasts.

They continued to watch and growl. Travers broke from Hale fully to let her sit up. The smaller one pounced so quickly Travers could do nothing but watch as its bulk knocked Hale back onto the ground. Cold fear washed over Travers’. He let out a yell, hands forming fists, ready to beat the beast away from her. But then he heard laughter, Hale’s unmistakable laughter and he stilled. The wolf was licking her face like a dog.

“Cal, Cal stop,” she pushed his muzzle in protest. 

The beast finally relented. He backed away. Hale sat up.

“Yuck,” she rubbed saliva-shiny cheeks.

Travers reached to pull her up. The wolves resumed growling.

Hale waved her hands at them.

“It’s okay, this is Augie,” she said to them, “Augie’s nice.”

The creatures didn’t look convinced. They had each raised a brow. Travers was struck by the human-ness of it. Then he shook his head. They weren’t humans in wolf bodies. That was impossible.

“Brothers!” Tansy’s joyous cry broke the tension.

She ran past Travers and Hale and dived on the ground. The wolves frolicked around her happily. It was a sweet sight until they pressed in closer. The larger one’s muzzle darted against her breast while the smaller one’s tail slithered into the crux of her legs. There was something openly suggestive about it that disturbed Travers deeply. Especially when Tansy planted a kiss on each of their muzzles.

Travers glanced at Hale. She looked uncomfortable herself. But she remained silent. She slid her hand into Travers’ and led him back into the house.

He found there was no convincing her out of not staying. She set about cleaning the house from top to bottom. Her father’s room she avoided, but all others she wouldn’t rest until they were spotless. Travers reluctantly helped, fetching cleaning supplies, clothes from their cottage. He admitted the house was more inviting when they were done. But he caught a chill each time he passed the door of her father’s room. The feeling of death hung about it. No amount of cleaning could erase that.

He remained wary of Tansy and the wolves. They gave him the creeps and he avoided them as best he could. He didn’t like leaving Hale with them though she urged him to go out. She didn’t want him to feel confined. He went sometimes, to the local pub. He didn’t resume painting, the process too lonely and disheartening with Hale in another home.

Months passed and they remained in Fairweather. Hale’s stomach began to expand but she refused to attend any doctor. She insisted she was perfectly healthy. Therefore so was the baby. She and Travers argued over the fact, him never winning.

Sometimes he wished he could leave the mess he was in. But he couldn’t abandon his unborn baby. So he stayed. When he and Hale had had a particular argumentative day, he drank. It numbed and relaxed him. He would sit in the parlor at night drinking while Hale was asleep in bed. Tansy and the wolves were secreted away in her room like they were every night. Travers had heard the bed squeaking, coupled with sounds he didn’t want to identify. Another reason to drink. Hale had the most fucked up family imaginable, even if the whole curse thing _was_ bullshit.

A storm raged on night as Travers sat alone in the parlor. He had opened the curtains to watch lightening carve through the black. He had been so transfixed it had taken him a moment to notice the knock on the front door. Banging to be more precise. He stumbled from his chair hesitantly. Who could it possibly be in the middle of the night, the middle of a storm?

He opened the door and there stood a woman, wet hair plastered to her face. She pushed it back, revealing eyes the same glimmer of crazy as Tansy’s in a face very much like Hale’s. Travers knew this was Drusilla.

She put her hands on her hips,

“Who are you?” she demanded.

She pushed past before he could answer.

“Tansy!” she called in a frustrated tone.

But it was Hale who came downstairs first.

“Dru,” she greeted her sister coolly.

Drusilla flashed her teeth in a grin.

“Oh hello Hebe. Long time no see.”

“I heard you killed father.”

Drusilla smiled.

“Oh yes,” she said without a drop of remorse.

Hale’s mouth lifted,

“You may have broken the curse.”

Drusilla suddenly frowned,

“Who cares about that,” she huffed, glancing over her shoulder into the darkness, “Didn’t help me.”

She swerved and look Augie up and down,

“He yours?” she asked Hale.

“He’s Augie,” Hale said.

“Her boyfriend,” Travers elaborated.

Drusilla’s lip curled in a sneer,

“Looks a bit like Daddy, when he was younger.”

“No he doesn’t!” Hale snapped.

She stormed over and grabbed Travers’ arm protectively.

“He looks nothing like him.”

Drusilla cackled,

“I think the lady doth protest too much.”

“At least I’m not the one in love with our brother,” Hale retorted.

Drusilla scowled,

“Adopted brother,” she corrected, “There’s a difference. I’m not Tansy for God’s sake.”

“Dru…” Hale’s voice was full of warning. Her eyes darted to Travers.

Drusilla gave a bark of laughter.

“What’s the matter Hebe?” she cooed, “Trying to keep lover-boy away from the family secrets?”

Drusilla rolled her eyes,

“As if it’s not obvious how _close_ Tansy and those beasts are.”

“So it is true?” the question sprung from Travers’ mouth.

Drusilla looked delighted.

“I helped abort their little “accident” once,” she said in a conspiratorial voice, “You tell me.”

Travers reeled with disgust. He heard Hale give a small moan.

“Drusie!” a voice screamed from the staircase. It was Tansy, wolves at her heels. Her face was broken as she pointed at Drusilla, “You promised you wouldn’t tell! You promised!”

Drusilla merely shrugged. She appeared a creature of no remorse.

Meantime tears poured down Tansy’s cheeks.

“You promised!” she sobbed, “You promised.”

The wolves started to growl.

Hale intervened.

“Tansy, sweetheart,” she said in a maternal voice, “It’s okay. There’s nothing to worry about. Go back in your room.”

Tansy pressed her hands to her seeping eyes, nodded and withdrew. The wolves followed.

“Aw look at you practicing Mommy,” Drusilla jeered at Hale.

Hale struck her across the face without hesitation.

“Shut up,” she hissed, “You’ve been here five minutes and upset everyone.”

Drusilla rubbed the place where she had been hit.

“I’ve only been telling the truth,” she said coldly, “The truth you’ve never come to terms with. You just ran from it, liking a fucking baby.”

Her words made Hale shake with anger. But she didn’t contest them. Perhaps because they were the truth.

Drusilla smirked in victory,

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” she purred, “It’s been a long drive.”

She swept towards the stairs in her damp clinging dress.

Hale fell against Travers’ chest,

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” she said, “We should just go home.”

Travers wrapped his arms around her. He was relieved to have her suggest it.

“Let’s go.”

Hale glanced outside and shook her head.

“In the morning. When it’s less dark and rainy.”

Travers couldn’t argue with that. The bottom line was that they were going to leave. He gladly followed her to bed to get a good night’s sleep. He woke less certain of her conviction. But as soon as Hale woke she started packing. There was no need for breakfast. There was a little gas station café on the way.

Travers offered to take the first lot of luggage to the car. The house was strangely quiet as he walked through it. It was only when he exited the house that he heard the sound of grunts and scrapping. He rounded the house and found Drusilla standing in a reasonably large hole, shovel in hand.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Drusilla stopped digging and wiped a hand over her forehead.

“Oh hello lover boy,” she purred, “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Travers frowned.

“Digging a hole.”

“Oooh,” Drusilla cooed, “Aren’t you a smart one.”

Travers bristled at her sarcasm.

“ _Why_ are you digging?” he demanded.

Drusilla resumed digging,

“To bury some loose ends,” she said with gritted teeth.

Travers would have asked her to elaborate. But he heard Hale calling him.

“Augie, where are you?”

“Round the back!” he called.

Hale soon appeared. Her face turned to shock when she spied Drusilla in her hole.

“What have you done?” the fear in her voice was audible.

Drusilla leaned against the shovel as she fished for keys. She tossed them to Hale.

“Trunk,” she said then continued digging.

Travers went with Hale to Drusilla’s car parked haphazardly on the grass. With a trembling breath Hale opened the trunk with one of the keys. She recoiled in horror. Two bodies lay unmoving, deathly white splattered with dried blood. A young man, dark-haired and a woman with delicate Asian features. Travers knew this had to be Hale’s brother and step-mother.

Hale recovered from her shock. She rushed back over to Drusilla. She stood at the edge of her hole and glared down at her trembling.

“You fucking lunatic. How could you…”

“Very easily,” Drusilla growled, “It’s amazing what rejection makes you capable of.”

“You killed him because he didn’t want you?” Hale gasped.

“I loved him Hebe,” Drusilla said, quietly, passionately, “You know how much I loved him.”

“He never wanted you,” Hale shouted, “You could have moved on, like a normal person!”

“We’re not _normal_ Hebe,” Drusilla spat, “We’re beasts on the inside. Territorial. Aggressive...”

“That’s no excuse for killing him!”

“If I couldn’t have him, no one else could.”

“You’re insane,” Hale stated.

Drusilla calmed with a shrug.

“It runs in the family,” she said, “Are you going to help me bury them or what?”

“We should call the police,” Travers interjected.

“No,” Hale said, “That would get us involved. I don’t want anything to do with _her_.”

Drusilla sneered at the statement.

“Gonna run away baby?” she jeered, “What a surprise.”

Hale gritted her teeth but didn’t respond. She turned to Travers.

“I’m going to say goodbye to Tansy.”

She stormed away. Travers followed. He was on the stairs when he heard her scream. He sprinted up the remaining steps. Hale had collapsed on the floor. He knelt by her side and shook her.

“Hol, wake up!”

He glanced beyond her to see Tansy and the wolves. They were huddled on the bed. Tansy’s face was ghostly white and none of them were moving.

“Oh God,” he whimpered.

He heard approaching footsteps. Drusilla appeared. She gasped as she surveyed the scene.

“Oh Tansy,” she moaned.

She looked down at the unconscious Hale.

“Get her out of here,” she ordered Travers, “I’ll deal with…”

She trailed off with a wince. Travers gathered Hale into his arms. She started to stir as he carried her away.

“Wha….” she slurred.

“I got you,” Travers said gently, “You fell down baby.”

“I…” Hale’s eyes widened in remembrance, “Tansy,” she cried, “Is she?”

Travers set her down carefully. He nodded solemnly. Tears formed into Hale’s eyes.

“I never thought… she would…. Oh God.”

She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Travers placed a hand on her shoulder,

“I’m sorry Hol,” he said.

He managed to coax her into the bedroom to lie down. She refused to be taken to a doctor. The baby wasn’t hurt, she insisted. Unlike poor Tansy. Her sister’s name brought more tears. Travers did the best he could to comfort her. But his mind drifted to the bodies. He imagined Drusilla was going to haul them down to the garden, bury them like the other two corpses.

It was a long while before she appeared. Hale had since fallen asleep. She looked peaceful in comparison to Drusilla who was covered in dirt, disheveled and sweaty.

“How is she?” she asked Travers.

“I wouldn’t say she’s fine,” Travers answered somewhat dryly.

Drusilla nodded,

“That’s understandable… It’s a shock. Tansy wasn’t the sanest person. But suicide…”

She trailed off with a shiver. Travers was silent. There was nothing he could really say in response.

“She was really loved our brothers. I can’t say it was a heathy relationship, but she was the only one who cared about them,” she sighed, “I guess reality just got too much for her.”

Hale stirred. She sat up. The moment she caught of Drusilla her face furrowed in anger,

“This is all your fault!”

“Me?” Drusilla protested.

“You drove Tansy to it,” Hale yelled, “Humiliating her last night. You pushed her over the edge!”

“I wasn’t expecting her to poison herself,” Drusilla said defensively.

“You knew she was fragile,” Hale snarled, “And you didn’t give a shit.”

For the first time Drusilla’s face broke into something like sorrow,

“What do you from me?” she howled, “I’m sorry okay. I’m sorry she topped herself.”

Hale rejected her apology with a glare,

“Like you actually care,” she turned to Travers, “Could we please go?”

Travers nodded. He helped her onto her feet.

“Wait!” Drusilla said as they moved to the door, “You’re just going to leave. What about Tansy?”

“She’s dead,” Hale said coldly.

Drusilla moved in front of them,

“I buried her,” she said to Hale, “And the boys. I thought you might… I don’t know, have a little service or something.”

“I’ll mourn Tansy in my own way,” Hale answered, “Get out of the way.”

Drusilla’s face hardened,

“So you’re just going to abandon me here?”

“You deserve to be alone,” was Hale’s reply.

She pushed Drusilla out of the way. Her sister followed after them,

“Fine, run away,” she shouted, “I don’t care. I don’t need you.”

She stopped at the top of the stairs. Travers glanced back. She cut a more forlorn figure than an angry one. But he said nothing to change Hale’s mind. As soon as their car was in motion he breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry Augie,” Hale said, “I should have never asked to come here.”

Travers reached to squeeze her hand in reassurance,

“You did have a reason,” he said, adding tentatively, “Do you still believe there’s a curse.”

Hale sighed,

“I don’t know. I always thought that if Dari and Cal died, they would turn human, like the curse had been broken on them. That didn’t happen. Maybe it was all just a story.”

“There’s one way to find out,” Travers said.

Once they had settled back home he convinced her to visit the doctor. He went with her of course. He held her hand tight as the nurse applied gel to Hale’s stomach. For the first time he was actually felt afraid of the curse. What if it was real? What if the nurse gave a scream of terror to see a wolf fetus on the monitor?

But no scream came. The nurse smiled in their direction,

“Congratulations, you have a healthy baby girl.”

Travers sighed with relief. He and Hale exchanged happy smiles.

But in the back of his mind came a niggling feeling. The curse didn’t effect girls, only boys. That meant it was still a possibility wasn’t it?


End file.
